"What did you just say?"

One week ago, I wrote about a comment that my roommate had made.  After my saying that teaching at Finneytown was the last time I felt called, she remarked "and look how you have remained faithful to the call".  This was eye opening to me because at times I have felt that I have selfishly held on to ministry at Finneytown.  Last Monday, God rocked my socks off; as if to prove it has nothing to do with me, he just wants me to watch him work.

Let me catch you up to speed.  We are going to camp, for the most part, as an area.  We received about 98 spots for said camp trip to Lake Champion to split amongst the schools.  As of last week, there weren't a whole lot of spots left for the area; although Cat said she could probably pick up 20 more spots.  Going into the night, as well as throughout the night, we made sure kids realized that spots weren't just sitting around waiting to be filled.  

As the night started, about three deposits (from regulars) came in.  By the time club was over we had eight deposits.  We kept talking to kids and God kept showing up.  I had a girl approach me after club.  This girl is absolutely wonderful and sadly hasn't been able to come to camp last year or this year.  Her first comment was, "My mom asked me today if I wanted to go to camp."  What?  Turns out, she will be going to camp this year because Courtney went and picked up her deposit later that night.  Sean then left to head out to her boyfriend's house to pick up his deposit.  

In the midst of our team meeting, when Cat was finally free to chat, I got to be the one to talk to her about our numbers.  Timidly, I told her about our deposits.  "What did you just say?"  That was her response.  Because I had just told her that we collected 16 deposits that night.  Going into the night, we had 24 deposits.  We sat around the table at Courtney's parents' house laughing; because in moments like these you know that it's God doing all the work.  

I often delude myself into thinking that something I do or something I don't do could actually help/hurt ministry.  Now, don't get me wrong.  We definitely need to make ourselves available and the Lord will do crazy things through us.  In the same sense, our fallenness can truly damage ministry.  I've seen both sides of that coin.  But when amazing, jaw dropping, tear inducing things happen, I tend to lean towards blaming Jesus.  

16 kids don't turn in deposits in one night because the thought of spending a week with me makes them run home and grab a check.  Kids don't stand up at a say-so because I had a really good one on one time with them.  Lives don't change forever because I am great at leading biblestudies.  No, in moments like these we get to just sit back and marvel.  Our God is greater than anything we could imagine.  And so this week, I'm going to work on just sitting back in awe of him.  Because dangit if he's not awe inspiring.

Listening To The Call

On Friday night, at leadership, we had a night of prayer and worship.  I am a writer (if you haven't already picked up on that) and so my words come more freely and honestly through my pen than any other medium.  I tend to pray with written words.  I will scribble furiously as my mind speeds through thoughts.  In the midst of my breakdown previously in the week, I have been hearing the Lord. He has pushed me to rely on him regardless of my unbelief.

I came to a place of recognizing that much of my lack of trust stems from lack of depth in our relationship.  How can I trust him when I don't know him? How can I rely on him when I'm not intimately acquainted with his character?  Of course, we have a relationship.  But do I put the appropriate amount of time and effort into the relationship? Probably not.  This should be the relationship that matters most to me.  This should be the one that I spend the most time on, the most effort on. And yet, it's not.  And so I imagine that my grandiose call in life is being neglected by him.  That he has forgotten to step up and call me to my life of adventure.

There may never be a grandiose call on my life like what I want it to look like.  But regardless of my emotions, there is a call on my life.  It doesn't look like a house, a job, a man, or any particular ministry even.  The call on my life is to love and follow him; to abandon all else and be faithful to him and him alone.  Our relationship with Christ is compared to a marriage in the Bible.  How often do I go out on my groom; occupying my night with things that I deem more valuable?  All he asks is that I remain faithful. That I vow to love him above all others.  And in the midst of chasing after him with a single-minded purpose, he allows us to be a part of what he's doing.

The other night, as previously mentioned, I was talking with Anola about the radio silence.  I said that I had felt called to Finneytown all those years ago and then... radio silence.  Her comment was "and look how you have remained faithful to the call".  It isn't me that is faithful though.  He has remained faithful to me and has allowed me to continue to be a part of this ministry.

Even last year, when I thought I would be on the way out after leaving my teaching job, he has called me to remain faithful; to him and to finneytown.  And looking at the kids that I get to call my friends, that I get to do ministry alongside; looking at my teammates who are actively giving their lives away... I wouldn't have it any other way.  Who needs some international adventure when I get to watch kids cross over from death to life?  Not me.

Let Them Eat (cup)Cakes

Today was the first day that I did my cupcakes for a reason other than just pure enjoyment.  I had two dozen purchased for a wedding shower, and I took over one hundred cupcakes to a shower I was helping host.

Cupcakes are just fun; that's not news to anyone.  I always joked, when I was in Virginia unsure of what to do with my life, that I would open up a cupcake shop: Let Them Eat (cup)Cakes.  I would be able to put my baking skills to use and enjoy what I did.  Years later, who would've guessed it, I worked at a cupcake shop.  (albeit not my own cupcake shop)  I learned SO much in those short two months from the woman I worked with.  Before, my cupcakes would have been iced with a spatula and maybe some sprinkles.  Now, I hate serving unfilled cupcakes and I have to think through how I can frost each kind differently.

All that said, it's nice to feel accomplished at something again.  It's a different feeling to have so many people tell you how much they love what you've made and when can they order some for themselves.  A woman was at my shower who was at the shower earlier in the day for which my cupcakes had been purchased, and she came over to rave to me about how delicious they were.  Granted this probably comes off a bit egotistical, but for those of you that read on a regular basis, you might have seen a trend that this hasn't been commonplace for some time now.  So to feel like you're doing something well; and good enough that people want to pay you to do it more...well that's something to smile about.

Perhaps it's about time to let them eat cupcakes.

Shouts above the noise

My heart has been so heavy lately. With the burdens of what I want my life to look like verses what it does look like. I just never imagined as a child that it would be like this; and with a tear stained face yesterday, I related that to my mother. Unfortunately, in the midst of my state of "wretchedness", I haven't been able to really hear words of encouragement. They all seem fake and forced.

Late last night, upon arriving home from family dinner, my roommate asked me how my day was. I proceeded to break down into a big ugly cry. We talked about life and what it looks like. I told her how I feel like since being called to Finneytown all those years ago, it has been radio silence. She looked at me and said, "and yet you remained faithful to his call". He's good at humbling me by placing people in my life that will consistently, firmly remind me of his truth.

 So we prayed together; asking that I would actually believe all the promises he has made me. Because one of my biggest struggles recently has been that while he is affirming his truths, the affirmations of the lies are louder. While Anola's graciousness as a roommate reminds me that he provides, working in a mall often makes me feel as if I'm not worth much.

 After many tears and prayers, I went off to my room to go to sleep. Upon climbing into bed, I received a text message from my wonderful coleader Sean. The text preview merely read "The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs". He continued writing out isaiah 58:11, but when that appeared on my screen, more ugly tears arrived. Then a quick, out-of-the-blue affirmation from a coworker today. And one of my new favorite friends offered up her place once the rooms gets married.

 It is amazing how sneaky Jesus is. Yesterday, with big ugly tears I said he was silent. I accused him of not speaking loudly enough over the lies. And in 24 hours, he shouted. Numerous times. I will provide. You are worth it to me. You are beautiful. I will meet your needs. I am guiding you; be patient.

How are you really doing?

I think that it's very easy for us to get so wrapped up in the drama of our own lives to forget what is going on in other's lives. I had a very open and real conversation with a good friend the other day about some of the frustrations in her life right now. It was hard and yet almost funny to hear all of my frustrations coming out of her mouth. How isolated we each feel underneath our burdens, and yet they are the same burdens that we are carrying. Loneliness, frustrations with our jobs, not feeling "successful" (whatever that means), etc. It was as if we had never discussed these before, although I know we have.

And so in the midst of our tears, I was laughing inside at my discovery. I feel like I had some good talks recently and have accepted the truth that our sin often drives us towards feeling alone, isolated. We feel ashamed and as if we are the only ones struggling with said sin so we must stay alone in it. If we let anyone in on our "dirty little secrets" then they might see us for who we truly are; broken individuals. I feel like through my discussion the other day though, that I learned it is not just sin that drives us towards feeling isolated.

In the midst of our lives, we often feel unloved and unworthy. And for whatever reason, whether it be pride or fear, we rarely have the conversation with our friends that we feel this way. It is hard and it often feels like it will come across that we are compliment fishing. I don't want to burden a friend with the need to boost my self confidence or continually say how great I am; regardless of their belief in those statements. First off, it always comes across as forced and not genuine. Secondly, no matter how much a friend tells me that I really am great, I don't' believe them. In the same way that regardless of how people tell you you look, sometimes you just feel unattractive.

Perhaps the take away message for all of this is just that whether it be sin or pain, we were meant to be together. God created a partner for Adam so that he wasn't alone. We were created for community. So in the spirit of community, lets share our lives. And not just the every day going ons of what we are doing. How was work? Did you have a good dinner with so and so? But lets have deep, genuine conversation that probes further than what we normally ask. I don't know exactly what that looks like so I'm not sure I can give example questions. I don't think it means sitting down to lunch and asking, "Hey have you been feeling unworthy of God's love recently?" I can't imagine that conversation without giggling because I feel awkward just pretending it's happening. But maybe it just comes down to being like kolia, never breaking eye contact, and asking again after someone says they're fine. "

"How are you really doing?"

Realizations on the VA/NC border

About a month ago, I went to visit the wonderful Kari Burgess in her new town of Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Passing into North Carolina from Virginia, you wind down the side of a mountain with the most gorgeous valley view. It was another instance of catching my breath in the Blue Ridge Mountains; and for the first time I understood why.

There are too many things in life that shout at us that God couldn't exist, or that his character isn't what we hope for. We are surrounded by broken things: relationships, insecurities, pain, people. The lies of the world strive to convince us that there's no way God could exist or be good. Often times, I find myself "convinced". I am bogged down by the brokenness and the lies.

And then I find myself in the mountains. In the midst of all the chaos and the rush of life, I breathe easy. I think it's because, on that winding drive down the mountain, everything whispered here He is and He is good! Something about being surrounded by the beauty of his creation makes him so obvious, so close, so real.

Grateful

I may gripe about my life at times; the unknown, the lack of roots, the ever changing plan. Ultimately, however, I have to admit I live quite the spoiled life. I have some of the best friends out there, both here in Cincinnati and in a splattering of eastern cities (and a few just out on their own in other places). They care for me well by singing happy birthday across the pond, inscribing page after page of a book with personal notes, and making time in Vegas to spend a night eating ice cream. I also have had lots of opportunities to explore different avenues. Sure, that means I get frustrated with the lack of roots and occasionally it means I feel restless, but it also means I meet tons of fun people and try lots of different opportunities. Perhaps with the rest of my September, I will work on being grateful for the good life. Because that is definitely what I live.

Sweethearts

I finished my first book of the summer and it was marvelous. Seeing as I teach high school English, I love the YA section of the library. So, I will recommend Sweetheartsto you and convince you with this snippet. It's pretty good. (Also I love writing that is similar in style to my thinking, and I like to think I could've thought this. Granted I probably could not have expressed it so well.)

Sometimes I think about how there are certain people who come into your life, and leave a mark.
I don't mean the usual faint impression: he was cute, she was nice, they made me laugh, I wish I'd known her better, I remember the time she threw up in class.
And I don't just mean that they change you. A lot of people can change you -- the first kid who called you a name, the first teacher who said you were smart, the first person who crowned you best friend. It's the change you remember, the firsts and what they meant, not really the people.
I'm talking about the ones who, for whatever reason, are as much a part of you as your own soul. Their place in your heart is tender; a bruise of longing, a pulse of unfinished business. Just hearing their names pushes and pulls at you in a hundred ways, and when you try to define those hundred ways, describe them even to yourself, words are useless. If you had a lifetime to talk, there would still be things left unsaid.
The pulse of unfinished business still beats while life unfurls; days, weeks, months.
In the end, I decide that the mark we've left on each other is the color and shape of love. That's the unfinished business between us.
Because love, love is never finished. It circles and circles, the memories out of order and not always complete.

Bronco and Kona

I just spent a week and a half dog/apt sitting for a new friend. Let's just say I'm not ready to be responsible for another living being; I'm just not mature/selfless enough. I am walking away, however, with a bit of perspective. I haven't really taken care of anyone/anything in a long time. It's just been me. It's been me bumbling around and, if anything, being taken care of by others. But these past weeks, I had to be selfless.

I know you're probably thinking, Mandy, that doesn't count. I would like to say, however, that it does. I had to make sacrifices and not do things I wanted to do. I hadn't been to the gym in all that time until this morning. When I got home after school, which had to be at a certain time so as to prevent accidents, I was in for the night. When Bronco was sick, I had to clean up after him. (And I definitely called my mom like a proud parent when he stopped getting sick.) For two weeks, I was a responsible adult.

Today, I picked up said new friend at the airport. While I will miss those dogs, today was fun post 6pm because it was just me to take care of all over again. And that's nice.

One day though, I'll be ready. One day I will be mature enough to constantly put someone else before myself. (Although I'd like to think I'll still be able to sleep in on the weekends.)

Stolen words from Kevin Bacon

Okay, the words aren't really from Kevin Bacon. I found these marvelous words on the blog of a friend of a friend; which made me think of seven degrees of separation, which clearly leads to Kevin Bacon. All that to say, I read this and my heart sighed. It found a kindred spirit in Mr. Bacon. Therefore, I will let the words "he" wrote speak for my heart...


We are running marathons. Nothing is a sprint except an actual sprint.

And yet, I think in terms of sprints. I think short-term, I think here and now and do little to consider the future. I do it with relationships, friendships, finances and more; whatever feels good now is what I'll do. I distill my world to 140 character status updates, and do not consider the punctuation marks I use may not be correct. The place I put a period may be where God wanted a semicolon, changing what I thought was an end into merely a pause. I don't look far enough ahead to understand the difference.

The question I struggle with is how am I to learn to live a marathon life in a world that thinks in sprints?

I want to train to pace myself, to work up to the hills and stretch the parts of me that get overworked along the way. I want to understand that the blisters I get are not because I'm a terrible person or a failure, but because I am a person who is running and blisters happen to runners. In the marathon world, I must pay close attention to what I take in and where I'm going. If I'm to run the race marked out for me, training for the long-distance and not the immediate future is the difference between standing at the finish line and giving up before I can see it.